


safe in your hands

by amidnightlove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidnightlove/pseuds/amidnightlove
Summary: When Obi-Wan’s hands get temporarily wounded, Anakin volunteers to help him.In every way.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 42
Kudos: 370





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> writing from anakin's perspective was quite the experience, but i had fun and i hope you too!

Obi-Wan’s hands had been burnt. And then crushed by durasteel crates.

 _A minor wound_ , he had said with a small smile.

He could’ve ignored the pain, ignored the swelling and blisters and the way every fibre of his hands ached, had it not been for the fact that he had promptly collapsed on top of Cody, startling all the clones.

He hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, especially Anakin. So obviously, Cody had informed Anakin as soon as Obi-Wan was in the makeshift medbay.

Anakin didn’t run. He simply walked at his fastest speed, maybe jogging at some points, but he was by Cody’s side in less than five minutes. Which was surprising, considering they were not even in the same part of the jungle.

Cody blinked at him, still holding the commlink in his hand.

“Sir! General Kenobi—”

“Where is he?” interrupted Anakin, out of breath. The mere idea of Obi-Wan injured, of Obi-Wan being so injured that he needed medical help was enough to send him into a frenzy. “What happened? How did it happen? Is he okay?”

He had only heard _General Kenobi is in the medbay_ before he had taken off, heart pounding. He had left Ashoka and Rex without any explanation. The mere idea of losing Obi-Wan…

“He’s stable, sir. But his hands…”

Anakin brushed past Cody, entering the small pitiful tent that made up the medbay. He knew he was being rude, and that Obi-Wan would probably scold him for that, but he didn’t care. The clones understood, they always understood the close relationship that he and Obi-Wan had.

Obi-Wan was laying in a thin cot, unconscious. His armour chinked and darkened, breathing unevenly. The auburn hair he always took care of, dirty and plastered to his head. His hands a horrible purple colour, swollen and with blisters.

Anakin’s eyes went wide, and he knelt on the dirt next to his former Master. There were a few clones examining Obi-Wan and none tried to dissuade him from approaching the cot.

“Obi-Wan,” whispered Anakin and lifted a hand to touch Obi-Wan’s injured ones. He stopped only a few centimetres away, realizing he was only going to cause more pain if he did. He couldn’t use the Force either, he knew he could cause more damage if he didn’t know the extent of the injuries.

He looked at Obi-Wan’s unconscious features. Obi-Wan’s brow was furrowed in pain, and his eyelids twitched.

“Why is he unconscious?” asked Anakin to no one in particular, “his hands are the only thing that are wrong.”

He felt Cody appear by his side, sighing softly.

“We don’t know, sir. He decided to lift some crates by himself, to help, but one exploded and burnt him,” he made a pause, as if he didn’t want to admit it. “Then the rest collapsed on him. We should’ve protected him better, I shouldn’t have allowed him to expose himself like that.”

“Not your fault,” replied Anakin automatically, knowing that that was what Obi-Wan would’ve said if he had been awake. He knew the clones cared about their general and would never do anything to hurt him intentionally. He stared at Obi-Wan and fought the urge to comb the dishevelled hair. Why hadn’t he sensed Obi-Wan’s accident through their bond? “He needs a proper medical facility.”

The injured hands were disappearing under white wrappings and Anakin stared at them. Losing his arm had hurt, but it had been a clean cut. This was different, this could get infected. The level of pain Obi-Wan was had to be immense for him to faint.

“I will prepare the ship, sir,” said Cody quickly, ever ready to help. He walked quickly outside, and Anakin heard him vaguely give the orders for their ship to be ready to return to the Temple.

Obi-Wan would scold him if he knew he was abandoning their mission, especially if it was just to treat his wounds. But Obi-Wan wasn’t awake, so Anakin did whatever he wanted.

He rested one hand on Obi-Wan’s arm, squeezing it tightly.

“I will take care of you, Master,” he whispered, ignoring the fact that he was going to get scolded once again by the Council, “you are safe now.”

* * *

He did, in fact, get scolded by the Council. But the councilmembers were more shocked not by the fact that Obi-Wan had been injured, something that was bound to happen during the war, but that he had collapsed and lost consciousness.

Anakin had barely heard what they had said to him, his entire body ready to sprint off to the Halls of Healings. He knew that Obi-Wan was being treated, that he was alive, but he wanted to see it with his own eyes.

Obi-Wan had regained consciousness when they were arriving at Coruscant. He had been awake long enough to mumble _Anakin_ very softly, and then he was unconscious again. Anakin had been able to hear it only because he hadn’t left Obi-Wan’s side during the whole trip.

He had been forced to leave Obi-Wan only because someone needed to report what had happened during their missions. Ahsoka had stayed behind, which had Anakin rationalized that it was a good thing because she was competent and Padawans needed to gain experience. At least that was what he had said to her, Ahsoka merely crossing her arms and shaking her head.

The gesture had reminded him of Obi-Wan so much it had hurt. But Ahsoka had agreed, she was also worried about Obi-Wan and wanted him whole and awake again.

As soon as the Council dismissed him, Anakin ran.

Everyone was accustomed to his erratic behaviour, so they just moved out of the way for him.

When he arrived, he went straight to the bed he had left Obi-Wan merely two hours earlier. But it was empty.

He readied himself to scream for Obi-Wan when a healer approached him and calmly explained that Obi-Wan Kenobi had awakened, been healed as much as possible and then left the medbay.

Anakin wanted to punch something. Probably a healer, but he knew that wasn’t right, so he just tightened his hands into fists. Why had they allowed Obi-Wan to leave when he had unconscious three hours ago?

Fuming, he ran again. But this time in the direction of their quarters. He was in their floor, near their room when he saw a figure shuffling quietly, auburn head bowed.

“Master! _Obi-Wan_!”

He sprinted even faster and almost collided against the figure, earning a huff from Obi-Wan. He twined his arms around Obi-Wan’s middle, avoiding the hands, and squeezed.

“Anakin!” exclaimed Obi-Wan, “what are you doing?”

Resisting the urge to swept Obi-Wan off his feet, Anakin let him go and walked until he stood in front of him. Obi-Wan’s hands had been wrapped again and he held them tenderly against his chest, carefully not touching anything.

“I went to look for you and couldn’t find you,” shrugged Anakin as if that explained everything. “They said they were done healing you.”

Obi-Wan pursed his lips and started walking again, slowly approaching their rooms.

“They did, however, they said I must continue the treatment. Which I assured them I could do it in my rooms.”

Anakin frowned and entered after him, moving a seat so Obi-Wan could rest in the small table they sometimes used to eat in the few times they were at the Temple.

“You were… Obi-Wan, did you escape from the Halls?”

Obi-Wan sat and said nothing, only looking down at his gnarled hands.

Anakin knelt in front of him and stared at Obi-Wan’s tired face, the way his blue-grey eyes seemed defeated.

“Hey,” whispered Anakin, grazing a hand on Obi-Wan’s uncovered wrist. “I have escaped from the medbay before, no shame in that.”

Obi-Wan gave a small smile, a mere quirk of his lips.

“I can’t use a lightsaber. I can’t use my hands for at least two weeks,” he said, looking up at Anakin, “I’m on leave for at least that time. But I’m sure that if I meditate—”

“Stop,” said Anakin, shaking his head. “I know where this is going. You need help and don’t want it.”

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan sighing, looking at his hands again, “the wounds are cumbersome yes, but I can still work. No need for them to order me to stay here. You shouldn’t have brought me here.”

Anakin glared at him. Was he simply to let Obi-Wan rot in the middle of nowhere? Of letting him die when he could’ve done something? He had already lost his mother, lost a wife –Padmé filing for a divorce still hurt but he understood—, losing Obi-Wan was out of the question.

“I would never leave you to die, Obi-Wan,” said Anakin. He looked at their small kitchen and sitting room, noting that all the mess belonged to him. “I will help you.”

“I don’t need—” began to say Obi-Wan, standing up. But Anakin stood up as well.

“I’m not asking,” interrupted Anakin, coming closer, touching him again. Obi-Wan’s body was warm and even though he still wore his dirty torn clothes, his scent was familiar and comforting.

Obi-Wan swallowed and allowed the touch, leaning against him for a moment.

“Fine,” said Obi-Wan with a sigh. He looked around and amusement lit his eyes. “You can start by cleaning our floor.”

Anakin didn’t even complain, he had dug this hole himself.

* * *

After three days, Anakin didn’t know if Obi-Wan could do the majority of the things he did, or if he simply ignored the pain and trudged on. He insisted he could use the refresher by himself as well as change his clothes.

Anakin mused that if he had had the same injury, he would have thrown himself on his bed and boss everyone around, using the opportunity to laze around.

Instead, Obi-Wan quietly sat on their couch and patiently waited to be fed. Perhaps not waited, his shame at being temporarily disabled and needing help filtered through their bond.

“I told you, Anakin,” said Obi-Wan, not quite looking at him. “I can eat by myself.”

“Really, Master?” asked Anakin and dropped the plate of Bantha meat in front of Obi-Wan, “cut it and eat it then. Without the Force.”

Obi-Wan took a breath and attempted to move his trembling hands to the plate.

“Stop,” murmured Anakin, feeling ashamed. He didn’t like seeing Obi-Wan like this. “Let me help you, please. I want to help you. I’m available for whatever you need. There’s no one else seeing us, you can….” he hesitated, searching for the correct words, “you are in safe hands.”

Obi-Wan snorted and looked at him, a fraction more relaxed.

“That was a terrible joke.”

“Yes, it was,” agreed Anakin, cutting the meat in small pieces. He stabbed one piece and moved the fork near Obi-Wan’s mouth.

Obi-Wan licked his lips and Anakin’s heart halted.

He knew Obi-Wan was attractive and that he found Obi-Wan attractive, but as Obi-Wan’s rosy lips closed around the fork and he pulled gently at the food, he didn’t know how attractive he found him.

Obi-Wan chewed slowly, tongue occasionally peeking out, unaware of Anakin’s inner thoughts. Anakin kept feeding him, kept seeing the way Obi-Wan’s mouth opened to receive the food and he moved his lips, pink mouth shiny and plump.

Anakin discreetly tightened his mental barriers and tried to find a position to hide his growing erection. He was enjoying this more than he had anticipated, he liked the way he provided for Obi-Wan, having Obi-Wan depend on him, need him.

He didn’t want Obi-Wan to be permanently injured of course, but he relished the opportunity to care for him. Obi-Wan, who was always proud and tended to overexert himself.

He was a degenerate, he was doing something as simple as feeding his ailing best friend and kept imagining how Obi-Wan’s lips would look wrapped around his cock.

Obi-Wan frowned and leaned back.

“I’m full,” he said quietly, looking at him.

Would he say that? If Anakin had him? _I’m full of your cum, Anakin_. Perhaps Obi-Wan didn’t swear in bed. Perhaps Obi-Wan had never shared anyone’s bed.

Anakin sprang up and grabbed the plate.

“Okay,” he managed to say, running to the kitchen. He could feel Obi-Wan’s stare.

“We need to change the bandages,” said Obi-Wan after a while, noticing he wasn’t moving.

Anakin tried to calm his heart, his erection and turned. Obi-Wan had crossed his legs and was staring through the window, at the outside world.

The sun rays entered, making his red hair shine, as if he was on fire. Every perfect part of his face and body illuminated by the light.

Anakin breathed in and out, heart pounding. He didn’t just find Obi-Wan attractive physically, and what he felt was going to be difficult to ignore if he was to be closer to him.

Obi-Wan turned to look at him and gave him a small smile.

No, he didn’t just want to fuck him. Anakin wanted to cuddle him, to make him smile. To hide his face into the junction of Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulder and inhale deeply. To make sure no clankers or Sith Lords or crater hurt him.

“Yes, the bandages,” he said dazedly, moving to the refresher. He loved Obi-Wan, and it was time to admit it to himself.

He returned and sat in front of Obi-Wan, twitching, trying to find the gauze and bacta patch of the medpac. The healers had given them everything they would need for as long as Obi-Wan remained injured.

Anakin technically wasn’t on leave nor he had the authority to stay as Obi-Wan’s personal nurse, but they would have to use every single Knight they had to separate him from Obi-Wan’s side.

“What is it, Anakin?” asked Obi-Wan, extending his hands in front of him.

Anakin panicked, wondering if he had let slip the arousal and affection he felt through their bond.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, too quickly. “Just remembering the correct steps to do this.”

Obi-Wan cocked his head but said nothing.

Anakin carefully unwrapped the white material covering Obi-Wan’s hands until they were fully revealed to him. They were still swollen, but at least now they were mildly reddish instead of purple and with blisters.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Anakin asked, resisting the urge to use the Force and heal them immediately, knowing that some wounds needed time to heal by themselves. He removed his glove and grabbed the bacta cream.

Obi-Wan’s hesitation spoke volumes. “Mildly,” he confessed.

If Obi-Wan thought they hurt, then Anakin would’ve probably drove every healer insane with his screams of pains. Anakin frowned and gently applied the cool bacta in Obi-Wan’s palm.

Obi-Wan let out an involuntary hiss, and Anakin carefully grabbed his hands, spreading the material, trying to make the swelling and pain go away.

He glanced every once in a while at Obi-Wan’s face, trying to determine if he was hurting him or not. But after his first complaint, Obi-Wan had carefully guarded his expressions.

Anakin held one hand in his mechanical hand and used the other to press carefully into the skin, feeling how hot it was, knowing that if he didn’t do this Obi-Wan was going to be in worse condition. He rubbed it carefully, thumb moving in circles, trying to soothe it.

He had imagined holding Obi-Wan’s hands many times, of caressing the pale skin and feel it in his body, the warm hand holding his cock, cradling his jaw, but not like this.

Obi-Wan moaned quietly and Anakin stopped, looking at him.

Obi-Wan was flushed and not quite looking at him. Anakin moved to the other hand and hesitated.

“Sorry. Too much?” he asked, wishing he could go back and slash the crates with his lightsaber.

“No, it’s not…” Obi-Wan trailed off. He shifted and lifted his chin. “You can continue.”

Anakin was even more careful with the other hand, adding more bacta and carefully caressing it. Technically this wasn’t a massage or time for petting, but Anakin treated it like that. Making sure that every part of the hand was covered in bacta and that it healed the skin.

He grabbed both hands and caressed them slowly, using the tiny bit of the Force to his movement. He lifted his head and looked at Obi-Wan.

“Better?” he asked.

Obi-Wan, more serious than usual, nodded. Anakin frowned, wondering if he had done something wrong. If he had sent his thoughts over the bond without knowing it.

He wrapped the hands with clean bandages again and stared at them.

Obi-Wan’s hands. The same hands that had held him as a child when he had had nightmares. Hands that wielded a lightsaber to protect others. Hands that had saved his life many times.

Anakin grabbed them and making eye contact with Obi-Wan, kissed them.

Obi-Wan’s shock and slight pleasure flared in their bond. He blushed even deeper and cradled his hands to his chest once more.

Anakin grinned, savouring the reaction. He liked making Obi-Wan flush, being the source of Obi-Wan’s joy.

Immediately, he wanted to punch himself. He had kissed Obi-Wan’s hands? While making eye contact? He was the biggest idiot in the galaxy. He sprang up and shoved the contents of the medpac quickly, tripping to go back to the refresher.

When he returned, Obi-Wan was staring at his bandaged hands, unmoving.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” he said, not meeting Anakin’s gaze.

Anakin stopped. Yes, his refusal to leave Obi-Wan’s side also applied at night, as if Obi-Wan had a fatal injury that left him completely helpless. The first night he had awakened every two hours just to listen at the door, the next night he had simply grabbed a pillow and slept outside, always leaving before Obi-Wan awoke.

“I’ve slept in worse places,” said Anakin frowning. It was true, sleeping on the cool floor of the Temple was a luxury compared to how he had slept some nights in Tatooine or during missions. “I don’t mind. I want to be near you.”

He waited for the lecture about attachments or being told that it was unnecessary but Obi-Wan said nothing, only looked up at him, a soft expression in his face.

“Tonight,” said Obi-Wan slowly, “sleep with me.”

Anakin’s heart thumped in his ribcage, but he managed to nod. Obi-Wan meant it in a friendly way, obviously, but Anakin’s entire being misinterpreted it.

Obi-Wan stood up and took a tentative step towards him. His expression was still soft, the sun still making him shine.

“There is something I need,” he said.

“Anything,” replied Anakin, approaching him and holding the bandaged hands.

“It’s personal, and I’ve never asked anyone to do this,” continued Obi-Wan, “but if I had to choose someone to do it, it would be you.”

The idea that Obi-Wan was about to ask him something he never had to anyone made him almost beam with pride. Of course Obi-Wan trusted him, Anakin was the closest person in Obi-Wan’s life.

Anakin tried to calm himself and not blurt out something inappropriate about him and his hands. He made a choked off noise and nodded.

“Yes, anything Obi-Wan.” Didn’t Obi-Wan know that Anakin would die for him if Obi-Wan asked him to? Not that Obi-Wan would ever ask that of him.

Obi-Wan braced himself. “I need you to trim my beard.”

Anakin stilled and laughed, hard. Yes, he was the worst person in the galaxy, always thinking the dirtiest thoughts.

Obi-Wan frowned and tried to take a step back, but Anakin grabbed him by the waist, tugging him close.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I’ll do it,” he snorted, smiling, “I thought something else.”

Obi-Wan raised a disapproving eyebrow. “I don’t even want to think about what you imagined.”

“No, you don’t,” replied Anakin cheerfully, thinking of how he had clearly imagined kneeling in front of Obi-Wan and sucking him empty. He motioned to a chair near the window. “Where do you keep your stuff?”

Obi-Wan shook his head and sat again on the chair. “Second drawer of my bedside table.”

Anakin nodded and walked to Obi-Wan’s room, which unlike his, was always clean and tidy. Even with his injury, Obi-Wan managed to make the bed and make everything look clean. It was slightly bare, but it clearly reflected Obi-Wan’s personality.

He returned with a small bag and deposited it on the table, grabbing a small professional looking shear, the material gleaming in his hands.

“Well, Master, now I know where you spend all your money,” Anakin said, approaching him, “spending all the Jedi’s earnings in looking good.”

Obi-Wan glared at him but shook his head in which Anakin recognized as fondness. Obi-Wan sat straighter when he saw him approach him and opened his legs.

Anakin froze and tried to calm his heartbeat. The gesture was clearly to make him come closer and see the beard properly, nothing else.

Anakin stood between the legs and bent, swallowing. He grabbed Obi-Wan’s jaw and tilted it, seeking the light. The beard wasn’t even that messy, it was slightly long, but the red bristles were soft and glossy. He rubbed a thumb on them, seeing his organic hand disappear in them.

“Anakin,” breathed Obi-Wan and closed his eyes, baring his neck.

Anakin licked his lips and stood closer, trying his best to make the beard look as Obi-Wan always sported it. He clipped carefully, the only sound coming from Obi-Wan’s breath and the shear.

Small bright hairs fell on Obi-Wan’s shoulders and chest, and Anakin brushed them away, hand tingling wherever he touched Obi-Wan’s body.

Obi-Wan’s face had slowly gone red again, but Anakin attributed it to him being apprehensive about having someone else do this. Anakin made him twist his head and neck, trimming carefully, but there was a reason why he didn’t have a beard himself.

He stood straight, wishing he could hide his erection and feeling like a teenager again. Technically he was done, but he wasn’t going to let the opportunity to touch Obi-Wan pass.

Instead of using a brush, he used his own hands to remove the hairs in Obi-Wan’s chin, moving his hand across Obi-Wan’s heated cheeks.

“Anakin,” repeated Obi-Wan again, in a low tone. He opened his eyes and stared at him. The same soft expression as before.

Anakin swallowed, realising that their faces were centimetres away, and that Obi-Wan was simply staring at him with shining eyes, open legs, his hands carefully folded on his chest. Illuminated by the sun, his whole self gleaming. Beautiful. Perfect.

Obi-Wan leaned infinitesimally closer and Anakin bridged the gap between them, kissing him.

Instinctively, Obi-Wan moved one hand to tug him closer but brought it down again. So Anakin cradled him by the jaw and deepened the kiss, moaning quietly.

He kissed him unhurriedly, tasting Obi-Wan, exploring what it was like to kiss him, to hold him. He had imagined this a handful of times, but whenever he thought of kissing him, he had imagined that it was going to be one day in the middle of a battle, something hurried.

He should’ve known that Obi-Wan would kiss him like this, slowly but deeply, softly. Like kissing Anakin was something important and memorable to him.

Anakin sent a wave of arousal through their bond and felt Obi-Wan break the kiss, gasping against him. He opened his eyes, not even noticing he had closed them and gazed at Obi-Wan’s blushed face.

“Obi-Wan,” he said, panting. He tried to come closer but stumbled into something between Obi-Wan’s legs, and smirked.

Obi-Wan attempted to close his legs but Anakin quickly approached him, one hand in the back of the chair and the other splayed on Obi-Wan’s chest.

“I said I would do anything you need, Obi-Wan,” he whispered in Obi-Wan’s ear, tugging at an earlobe with his teeth, lowering his hand, “to give you my hand for everything you needed.”

Obi-Wan whimpered when he felt the hand near his hips, and he opened his legs again.

“Do you want me to touch you, Obi-Wan?” asked Anakin, kissing him on the cheek, the soft beard, the bared neck, “you want to come in my hand? Or maybe my mouth?”

“Anakin, I don’t,” Obi-Wan hesitated but turned to kiss him, clearly aroused. He bit his lips when he felt the hand rest on the waistband of his pants. “Anakin, I have never…” he stopped, looking at the window.

“Look at me,” said Anakin quietly, stopping his hand. Obi-Wan turned to look at him, mildly uncertain. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” replied Obi-Wan, without hesitation. He gave a small smile and leaned to be kissed again, “just…slowly.”

Anakin dipped his head and kissed him, capturing Obi-Wan’s lips again and again until Obi-Wan relaxed once more. Of course he was going to be gentle with him, and if he had been told to wait he would’ve waited years for the permission to touch him.

Deciding that perhaps sucking off Obi-Wan was a bit forward, Anakin dipped his hand inside Obi-Wan’s underwear, grabbing the erect member in his organic hand.

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched and he rested his head in Anakin’s chest. The position wasn’t ideal for either of them, but Anakin wasted no time, calmly moving his hand up and down Obi-Wan’s warm cock, clasping it tightly.

The small sounds Obi-Wan made where beyond Anakin’s dreams or comprehension. He still couldn’t believe he was touching him like this, being the only one who was allowed to make him come.

He made a sound half growl, half moan and sped his movements, feeling Obi-Wan move his hips as well. He bent and captured Obi-Wan’s lips again, his hand now covered in pre-cum still pumping, his own cock straining his pants.

“Anakin,” moaned Obi-Wan, waving his arms, clearly wishing to be healed so he could touch him properly.

“My Obi-Wan,” Anakin heard himself say. Obi-Wan made a soft broken sound and he came soundlessly in Anakin’s fist. Anakin knew that for as long as he lived, he was never going to forget that sound.

Anakin let him go and making sure that Obi-Wan was seeing him, used the same hand covered in cum to grab his own cock, only stroking himself a few times before finishing inside his pants and underwear with a weak moan.

Obi-Wan stared at him with wide eyes, gasping.

“Anakin,” he repeated, blinking fast. He raised his arms and tugged him closer by the waist.

Anakin complied, bending and hiding his face in Obi-Wan’s neck. He smelled exactly like Anakin imagined he would, something sweet and alluring.

Anakin closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling Obi-Wan’s soft skin against his cheek.

And then he realized that he had given a hand job to the person he was in love with. That his hand was covered in both his and Obi-Wan’s semen.

He took a step back and stared at his hand.

“Anakin?” asked Obi-Wan, rising from the chair. “Are you okay?”

He had just made Obi-Wan orgasm.

What. The. Kriffing. Hell.

He looked into Obi-Wan’s startled and sweaty face and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He should’ve declared his eternal love or make a joke about what just happened, but instead he did what he did best.

Anakin ran.


	2. Chapter 2

Anakin wasn’t hiding.

He was simply strategically laying in Ahsoka’s bed with a pillow on his head and had been like that for hours. A perfect spot away from people where no one would bother him and he could simply wallow in his own misery.

At that moment he was glad that his Padawan had chosen not to share rooms with him and Obi-Wan.

He wasn’t hiding, really, anyone could’ve found him in minutes.

Obi-Wan could find him even faster if he used their bond.

Anakin groaned and rolled on the small bed until he was resting on his stomach.

Obi-Wan, who had blushed and come apart under his hand. Who had looked at him with softness, who had said he wanted to be touched by him.

He obviously meant it for just that moment, not that he wanted Anakin forever. Just friends helping each other. He wasn’t imagining their wedding like Anakin was.

Best friends gave each other hand jobs if needed. Right?

Anakin winced and thumped his head against the bed.

Had he really said _my Obi-Wan?_ It was fine when he thought about it inside his head. But to say it out loud, and to Obi-Wan himself…

Anakin swallowed, remembering the sound Obi-Wan had made.

Obi-Wan had given him his trust and his body. And he had simply left the room, left him alone. Alone with his injury, alone after what they had done.

He groaned again. He was the biggest idiot in the galaxy. Confirmed.

“What did you do,” sighed Ahsoka, entering the room and dumping a bag on the floor.

Anakin yelped and snatched the pillow from his head. He hadn’t sensed her enter, they had a training bond but theirs wasn’t as deep and intense as the one he had with Obi-Wan.

“Well?” she asked, laying next to him, elbowing him on the side.

“Why do you assume that I—”

“Skyguy, really?” she rolled her eyes. “It’s obviously to do with Master Obi-Wan.”

Anakin sat upright and went rigid. Could she sense it? What they had done?

“He’s fine, isn’t he? You said he was recovering?” Ahsoka asked quickly, noticing his tension. “You literally abandoned me to be with him.”

Anakin stood up and looked at her, at her tired face. She was still wearing filthy clothes, her lightsabers.

She had completed the mission he had abandoned. He hadn’t even thought about it, focused on Obi-Wan and his injury.

His apprentice was more competent than he was. Clearly, she had learned that from Obi-Wan.

“Yes, he’s recovering,” Anakin replied. “We… he….” He frowned.

_I love him so much I want to gaze at him all the time. He now knows how I feel about him. Also, I made him cum in my hand._

He couldn’t say that.

Ahsoka moved to stand next to him and shrugged.

“Have you tried saying you’re sorry?” she asked.

Anakin hesitated. _Sorry, Obi-Wan for making you orgasm? Sorry, Obi-Wan for lusting after you? For being in love with you? Sorry, I won’t ever do it again?_

He wanted to do it again, to do much more with him.

Ahsoka gave him a light punch in the arm and he yelped again.

“Snips!” he dodged out of her way and rubbed his arm, “shouldn’t you be more respectful of your Master?”

“Then act like an adult,” she retorted, “say you are sorry to Obi-Wan and stop moping. Quit hiding in my room and fix things.”

When had Ahsoka become so mature? Or perhaps she had always been like that.

“Fine,” Anakin snorted. He grinned and grabbed her by the waist, giving her a lung-squeezing hug. “Did you know you are literally the little sister I never wanted?”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes but returned the hug.

“And you are more like a chaotic dad to me,” she made a small pause and lowered her voice, “go say you’re sorry to my other dad, okay?”

Anakin tensed, looking at the top of her montrals. She knew. Force, she knew.

Ahsoka squeezed him and let him go, face serious but eyes shining with mischief.

“Go, Anakin,” she said.

So Anakin ran again.

* * *

It was night by the time he returned to their quarters and their sitting room was empty. The chair in which he had trimmed Obi-Wan’s beard, empty as well.

Even the small bag with the shears was gone. Everything seemed nice and clean. Empty.

Anakin had a moment to think if Obi-Wan had had dinner without him and how he had managed to do it by himself.

His stomach twisted in knots, full of shame and nervousness. Even his throat went dry at the idea of how Obi-Wan would react.

He knew he couldn’t eat like this, when he had left Obi-Wan alone, especially when the other man needed him.

He had done what he always did, hide from his problems and emotions instead of dealing with them.

He stared at the entrance of Obi-Wan’s room and took a breath. Before he could enter it, the door slid open and revealed a dimly lit place. Obi-Wan sitting at the edge of the bed, barefooted and only wearing an oversized tunic, staring once more at his bandaged hands.

He looked up at Anakin, and there was a sadness and solemnity in his eyes that made Anakin want to tear at his own hair.

“I’ll leave,” Anakin nearly yelled the words before he could stop himself, “I’ll leave the Order and you’ll never have to see me again. We can pretend this never happened.”

Obi-Wan opened his eyes wide and started to speak.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Obi-Wan,” said Anakin coming closer, standing in front of him again, just like they had hours earlier, “it was against the Code and yes, I care about you but it clearly was a mistake and…”

“Anakin,” interrupted Obi-Wan and stood up, gazing at him with a frown. His voice went really small. “A mistake?”

“No!” exclaimed Anakin and grabbed him by the elbows, “I mean, I loved every minute of it, but I took advantage of you! Anyone can have an erection and, uh, you know.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and shuffled closer.

“You think I become aroused just by being near people? That it happens to me with everyone?”

The mere idea of Obi-Wan lusting after others left a bitter taste in Anakin’s mouth. But he realized something.

“So you… you liked it?”

Obi-Wan huffed and smiled.

“Yes, Anakin, I said I wanted you to touch me, didn’t I?”

“Then why did I run?” Anakin asked, frowning. “I’m an idiot. I should be apologising for leaving you.”

“Yes, you left,” said Obi-Wan, walking until he was caged by Anakin’s arms who welcomed him easily. “That’s why I thought that I had done something wrong. That you regretted it.”

“No, Obi-Wan,” said Anakin, looking at him, “I loved it. I love you.”

Obi-Wan tensed in his arms and Anakin wondered how many mistakes he could make in just one day.

“I care deeply about you too, Anakin,” replied Obi-Wan, his eyes shining. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to show it.” He waved his bandaged hands around.

Anakin leaned and kissed him softly on the lips, barely pressing against him. Obi-Wan sighed and sank into the kiss.

Obi-Wan cared about him. This was the best day of his life. He started grinning and held Obi-Wan even closer.

“I thought you were going to lecture me,” said Anakin nuzzling Obi-Wan’s cheek, feeling the newly-trimmed beard scratch him, “tell me we couldn’t do it again, that it wasn’t the Jedi way.”

Obi-Wan whimpered when he felt lips kiss behind his ear, a warm breath against his skin.

“I’ve known what I feel for a while,” he confessed, sagging against him, “I’ve made my peace with it. I just never believed it would be reciprocated.”

Anakin walked them backwards until Obi-Wan’s legs clashed against the bed and he gently pushed him to lay in it. He crawled on top of him, rubbing a naked leg.

“I think literal hearts come out of my eyes whenever I see you, Obi-Wan,” grinned Anakin, feeling the strong muscles of Obi-Wan’s thighs.

Obi-Wan let out a long breath but smiled.

“I’ll admit I can be oblivious sometimes,” he twisted a leg around Anakin’s waist and flipped him until he was on top of him, sitting near the younger man’s lap. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Anakin bit back a moan. Obi-Wan wasn’t wearing underwear, and he could feel the heat coming from the place he had stroked only a few hours earlier.

“Nothing to forgive,” Anakin said breathlessly, resting his hands over Obi-Wan’s thighs, “you’re half-naked, you cock near mine. Trust me, nothing to forgive.”

“I had hoped you would return and touch me again,” said Obi-Wan quietly, feeling fingers slid under his tunic and caress his hips, “take it off.”

Anakin wasted no time, removing the oversized tunic and throwing it to the floor. He wiggled to remove his own clothes, kicking away his boots, and stared at Obi-Wan’s naked form, the pale skin, the strong muscles, the soft cock he had held.

Obi-Wan wasn’t as toned and defined as Anakin was, but he was still beautiful, and Anakin’s cock wasted no time in showing its interest.

“Obi-Wan,” said Anakin, grabbing the injured hands again and kissing them, “are we dating?”

Obi-Wan gave a laugh, his body shaking. He moved his hips until his cock grazed against Anakin’s.

“Yes,” he replied, a lock of hair falling over his eyes, “I would like that.”

Obi-Wan’s laughter was something he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

Anakin tugged him by the neck to kiss him again, rutting against him. He captured Obi-Wan’s lower lip between his teeth and tugged.

“Anakin,” moaned Obi-Wan, closing his eyes, his erection growing.

Anakin grabbed him by the backside, one finger slithering closer to Obi-Wan’s entrance.

Obi-Wan tensed on top of him, squirming. Anakin immediately let him go.

“Sorry,” he blurted out. _Slowly_ , Obi-Wan had pleaded him earlier. “Sorry, I won’t… you wanted to go slow.”

Obi-Wan attempted to grab him by the shoulders with his hands and ended up simply shaking his head.

“I do think about you in me, Anakin,” he murmured, moving a hand to graze it against Anakin’s face, trying not to scratch him with the bandages, “I just… not today, today…” he huffed in frustration.

“I understand, Obi-Wan, we have all the time in the world,” Anakin grabbed him by the waist instead, tugging him closer until their cocks touched. Their relationship had started that day, and he wasn’t that desperate. They were both supposed to enjoy this. “Now that we are dating, we can do this whenever we want, whenever we feel ready.”

Obi-Wan’s shoulders unwound and he gave a nod.

“You can touch my cock again,” he offered.

Anakin laughed and did just that, keeping one hand on Obi-Wan’s waist, using the other hand to grab both their cocks. The sensation of touching Obi-Wan’s silky and hot member against his made him moan.

Obi-Wan made a series of small sounds, thrusting in Anakin’s hand, seeking his own release. Anakin quickly realised that he wasn’t going to last long and that surprisingly he didn’t care, as long as he was allowed to keep staring at Obi-Wan and hear his moans.

“Anakin, you’re staring,” accused Obi-Wan, panting. He leaned until their foreheads touched and he rested his forearms on either side of Anakin’s face, “stop. It’s embarrassing.”

“Can’t help it,” Anakin tightened his grip, feeling pre-cum cover his hand, his whole body tensing, “my boyfriend is gorgeous.”

Obi-Wan made again that soft broken sound that Anakin loved and came in Anakin’s stomach, legs trembling. He kissed Anakin with the last of his strength and Anakin’s tongue entered him, seeking his desperately.

Anakin grunted and came, coating Obi-Wan’s stomach with his seed. He let out a breath and collapsed against the pillow, breaking the kiss.

Obi-Wan sighed and twisted him again, until Anakin was on top of him and he was the one resting on the pillow. He blinked slowly and smiled.

“Boyfriend?” he asked quietly, blue-grey eyes shining with the dim light, “I’m not sure if I like that.”

Anakin swallowed. “I know, the Code and—”

“I much prefer partner,” continued Obi-Wan, breathing harshly, his cheeks flushed, “or even husband.”

Anakin blinked and blinked. Mere hours earlier he thought he was the one who was misinterpreting their relationship and now Obi-Wan was saying husband?

He squeezed Obi-Wan’s body with all his limbs, thinking if at that moment the hearts he had mentioned earlier were showing up in his face.

“Yes, yes, I’ll marry you!” Anakin said eagerly, “whenever you want. Kriff the Code.”

“Anakin,” scoffed Obi-Wan and surrounded his waist with his legs, settling on the bed, “we’re still Jedi. I know you always mentioned leaving when the war was over, and even then… well, I didn’t want to presume, but it was my intention to leave with you.”

“What?” Anakin startled. “You wanted to leave? And with _me_?”

“Yes, as your friend, of course,” Obi-Wan kissed him on the cheek, “I’ve wanted to leave before, when I was still a Padawan. And now after the war…” he trailed off, clumsily pushing away a lock of hair with the bandages, “I still have a duty. But yes, I wanted to leave the Order.” He paused and looked almost coyly at Anakin. “I would very much like to have a life with you, outside of this place.”

“Obi-Wan, yes,” Anakin kissed the hands again, beaming, “yes, we leave together.”

“Alright,” agreed Obi-Wan, closing his eyes and feeling Anakin’s lips kiss his eyelids, cheeks and mouth again and again.

Anakin still couldn’t believe he wasn’t dreaming. That morning he had woken up sleeping on the floor and now he was pseudo-engaged to Obi-Wan.

He smiled, feeling Obi-Wan hide his face on his neck.

“We really are idiots,” mumbled Obi-Wan in his ear. “We could’ve been doing this for a while.”

“Yeah, we are,” snorted Anakin, sucking a small love bite on Obi-Wan’s neck. He wanted to mark Obi-Wan’s entire body with his mouth. “I love you.”

Obi-Wan’s legs tightened around him, a hand touching him softly on the back.

“Dear one,” Obi-Wan whispered, kissing Anakin’s neck in return, “do you remember what I said earlier?”

“That you cared about me?” Anakin tried to think, but he kept getting distracted by the sensation of Obi-Wan’s soft skin on his. He knew he had to move and cleaned them up but had no intention of leaving the bed.

He finally had Obi-Wan where he wanted. He was never going to move. Ever.

“I did say that,” agreed Obi-Wan, “but I meant earlier. Before.” He looked at Anakin’s confused expression and smiled fondly. “I said,” he lowered his voice and moved until his lips grazed Anakin’s, “tonight, sleep with me.”

Anakin swallowed and kissed him. The velvet touch of Obi-Wan’s lips was even better than what he had imagined. And he was going to keep touching him forever, keep exploring Obi-Wan’s body and his reactions.

“Tonight, and every night,” affirmed Anakin, tugging at a sheet and covering both their bodies, tucking Obi-Wan closer.

* * *

Once a week passed, Obi-Wan insisted that his hands were fine, that after six hours of meditation he felt no pain and that therefore, it was unnecessary to keep the bandages.

He flexed his pink fingers slowly, twisting the hands carefully.

“They look okay, Master,” said Ahsoka, inspecting them, “are you sure they don’t hurt?”

“Yes, but the healers insisted I take the next week off as a precaution,” Obi-Wan replied, mild frustration in his voice, as if he wanted to be back on a battlefield wielding a lightsaber.

“Well, if they hurt again Skyguy can help you, right?” she shot Anakin a sly look and he glared at her, making sure Obi-Wan wasn’t seeing him.

Obi-Wan chuckled and turned to look at him. Always illuminated by the sun, always shining and perfect in Anakin’s eyes.

“Yes,” he replied, “Anakin has been quite helpful these past couple of days.”

Apart from indulging in some heavy petting and making out everywhere in their rooms, they had spent hours planning their future life. Mostly Anakin insisting that he could be a mechanic anywhere, but he wasn’t going to live anywhere near sand.

And yes, Anakin still changed the bandages and applied bacta when necessary.

“I’ll help Obi-Wan as long as he needs me,” said Anakin, approaching both, stepping a little bit closer to Obi-Wan than what was necessary. “He’s in safe hands.”

“I am,” replied Obi-Wan, that soft expression he always wore around him, the same expression that, if he looked back, Anakin would have realized had always been there. “Anakin’s hands are quite skilled.”

Behind him, Ahsoka made a face and Anakin discreetly waved her away with a hand.

“I’m glad, Master!” she grinned and winked at them, “see you later for our training Skyguy, if your hands are free!”

Obi-Wan blinked and Anakin sent the mental equivalent of a push through the bond he shared with Ahsoka.

She exited their quarters laughing.

“She knows, doesn’t she?” asked Obi-Wan quietly, looking at him, still testing his newly healed fingers.

“Yeah, but I think the only problem she’s going to give us, is where she’s going to sleep when she visits us.” Anakin tugged at Obi-Wan by the waist and kissed him.

This time, Obi-Wan’s soft hands sank into the mane of dark gold hair and he dragged his short nails in Anakin’s scalp, making him shudder.

“I want to touch every part of you,” Obi-Wan whispered in Anakin’s ear, leaning his body towards the couch, “to learn the shape of your body with my hands.”

“You don’t have to,” Anakin sighed, feeling hands sneak inside his shirt and soft pads caress the skin of his back while Obi-Wan gave him an open-mouthed kiss on his neck. “My Obi-Wan.”

“Oh, I want to,” replied Obi-Wan, removing his hands and interlocking their fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading <3


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